


Drunken Arm Wrestle

by Fernatticus



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Background Beauregard Lionett, Background Caleb Widogast, Background Jester Lavorre, Competition, Gen, POV Fjord (Critical Role), nott is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernatticus/pseuds/Fernatticus
Summary: Nott challenges Fjord to an arm wrestling match. TB to when Fjord was 11 strength aka the good ol days.
Relationships: Fjord & Nott (Critical Role)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Drunken Arm Wrestle

Nott plopped down in front of Fjord, drunk and smirking. With her elbow resting on the sticky tavern table, she extended her hand.

"Oh god," Fjord sighed, seeing the mischievous smile on the goblins's lips.

"You and me. Let's do this," She challenged, peering into his soul. 

"Nott, please just let me-" Fjord started.

"Boo! Lame! I got ten gold on Nott!" Beau shouted from a nearby table where Yasha was sitting as well.

"Wh-" Fjord tried to get out.

"No way! Fjord is super strong! He'll win for sure! No offense Nott," Jester slammed a fist on the table, her face suddenly intense.

"None taken," Nott beamed back at the tiefling, before turning back to Fjord. "C'mon Fjord."

Fjord sighed, watching as the rest of the Nein placed down bets and gathered together, Caleb pulling out platinum and putting it down for Nott. 

"Fine," He grumbled, as he clasped his hand in hers. Her pupils sharpened as Beau covered their interlocked hands.

"3... 2... 1...!" Beau yelled, pulling her hands away.

Nott started to push before Beau released, and he could feel her push his arm down with surprising strength. A feeling of horror dawned on Fjord at the realization that she could beat him. He wasn't going to lose. He pushed back, possibly overcompensating, to Nott's chagrin. 

"Tryhard," She muttered at him, her brow furrowed in focus. Fjord was trying very hard to make it not look like he was struggling, and hoped he was doing a job.

"C'mon Fjord! You can do it!" Jester yelled from the sidelines.

"Fuck'm up Nott!" Beau yelled back with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

Nott bit her lip, pushing down harder and gaining a sizable advantage on the now sweating half orc. Was he really about to lose to someone half his size? The fear of losing kicked in and he decided to put everything in to at least get to an equal ground. Nott's ears went up on end at this and she glared at him, eliciting a chuckle from Fjord before an idea popped in his head.

"Nott," His words were strained, but he powered through, being as charming as possible. "If you lose, I'll give you a button." 

She looked up at him surprised, and for a moment he thought he had won, before Nott slammed his back hand on the table with a resounding slap. There was a moment of silence before Beau erupted into cheers, running over and rustling Nott's hair.

"Suck it Jester and Yasha!" Beau exclaimed, pridefully collecting her earnings alongside a beaming Caleb. Fjord stared down at his hand on the table in disbelief. He had lost.

Nott took a sip of whiskey and reclined back in her chair, smiling coyly at Fjord. Her face softened at the look of disappointment on Fjord's face.

"Good game, Tough," She said, extending a hand, a glimmer in her eye. He sighed, before taking it. She gave a professional shake, before jumping up and running over to Caleb.

"Good game, Nott," He replied to the open space where she had been standing, already planning a weight lifting regiment for next time. Next time he'd win for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always appreciated


End file.
